


Unlocking Christmas Joy

by PTwritesmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas with Harmony, Discord: HMS Harmony, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Harmony - Freeform, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, POV Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/pseuds/PTwritesmore
Summary: Hermione is just a friend and a roommate? Right? Right?! Spend Christmas Eve with Harry and Hermione at 12 Grimmauld Place several years after Hogwarts and a few weeks after a comment by Ron deeply confuses Harry.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 13
Kudos: 135
Collections: Christmas With Harmony 2020





	Unlocking Christmas Joy

“Do you need me to pick anything else up?” Hermione called from the door. 

“No, I think the list should cover it!” Harry yelled back to his roommate from the kitchen as he paused his cleaning spell. “Maybe some extra Christmas crackers if you can still find any.”

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” Hermione called again before Harry heard the door slam shut. 

Harry let out a deep sigh, absorbing the silence with gratitude. While he could feel the stress he’d been carrying for weeks lessen a bit when he was alone, the anxiety was still present, buzzing in the back of his brain like a loose snitch. He rubbed his face with his hands, thinking about how he got himself into this mess to begin with.

The pair had been living together at Grimmauld Place since Hermione finished her eighth year. With two years as roommates, they’d settled into a nice routine. Harry cooked their meals, while Hermione did most of their cleaning. Hermione helped Harry with research for any particularly tough cases during the weekends, while Harry listened to Hermione’s practice presentations for her proposed legislature. Harry made sure Hermione went to sleep at a relatively normal hour, while Hermione made sure Harry woke up in time for work. They shared snacks, danced badly to old songs in their living room, and stayed up late on Saturdays watching muggle movies. Whenever there was an event they’d been roped into attending, the two were each other’s go to dates to avoid having the trouble of finding a date. It was the perfect set up for two best friends. Until a month ago. 

“It’s like you’re dating,” Ron casually remarked one day on their lunch break, watching Hermione walk away. They typically all ate together at the Ministry, but Hermione often left early to prepare for afternoon meetings. 

“What!” Harry exclaimed, feeling his face flush red, hot against the crisp November air. “We aren’t dating!”

“Relax, mate,” Ron chuckled. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. You spend all your free time with each other at home or you take her to events. You even went to Edinburugh last month tog-”

“She wanted to see the university library!” Harry cringed internally as his voice cracked. “We had separate rooms,” he added evenly, forcing himself to be calmer. “It was nothing like what you are suggesting.”

“That’s why it is like dating,” Ron muttered, pointing his fork at him. “You both are doing all the work and getting none of the reward.”

“I know she’s technically your ex, but don’t talk about her that way,” Harry said as he glared at Ron. “She’s my sister.”

“No, she’s really not,” Ron said as he gave Harry a pointed look. “Look, I’ve held my tongue for years, but I just can’t anymore. If you are holding back on my account, I’m telling you now. Don’t. Ginny would say the same.” Harry sputtered at his best friend, who only looked back at him solemnly. “You’re both my best mates and I want you to be as happy as I am with Luna. She is brilliant, and beautiful, and a bit barmy, but I think every lad needs some of that. And we both know Hermione is mental.” Ron waggled his ginger eyebrows suggestively, making Harry turn practically purple with embarrassment. At the sight of him Ron laughed, clapped him on the shoulder, and got up to throw away his trash, leaving Harry alone to process their conversation.

After their lunch talk, it was as if the floodgates had opened. Harry became hyper aware of everything Hermione did in their house. That night when he got home, Ron’s words bounced around in his head with every smile she shot his way, every joke she cracked, and every step she took. Then he started noticing small things, things he’d never noticed before, like her gentle humming while she fed Crookshanks in the morning, or that she always remembered to set out his tea, made with two sugars, for him so he’d have something before work. Each day he found something new about her that he couldn’t believe he didn’t already know given how long they’d been friends and roommates. Hell, they’d been trapped in a tent together for months! Yet, Ron’s offhand comment had pulled a veil from his eyes and Harry didn’t know if he should be thrilled or depressed. He only knew how he currently felt: anxious and uncomfortable. After the crash and burn of his relationship with Ginny and the lingering awkwardness, Harry didn’t want to lose Hermione too. And yet, he still found he was studying the way she twisted up her hair off her neck when she had meetings with her boss or analyzing why picked the exact type of takeaway he had been craving that day. 

After a couple of weeks like this, his new obsession escalated further, seeping into how he acted with her. When their hands brushed as they reached for the same thing at the dinner table, his heart jumped and his face flushed. When she playfully shoved him as they decorated the tree, he practically tackled her back, playfully tickling her until they were both crying from laughter. When she read him A Christmas Carol as he wrapped their presents, he found himself wrapping each present with a great deal more care, taking his time so he could stay lost in her voice. He was cracking jokes with the intention of hearing her laugh and wearing clothes she had previously complimented. 

Harry felt like a man possessed. He couldn’t get Hermione out of his head. He couldn’t force himself to just act normally, no matter how hard he tried. He nearly passed out when he found her on the couch in the living room, clearly having fallen asleep waiting for him to get home from a late mission. Before a few weeks ago, he never would have questioned scooping her up and placing her in her own bed. But since Ron’s comments, he dithered on what would be appropriate. After several minutes of debate, he gently carried her to her bed, tucking her in and fiercely ignoring the voice in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Sirius, urging him to take her back to his room instead. 

That was two days ago and he still couldn’t stop thinking about Hermione. Today was their first Christmas Eve party and they’d spent the day orbiting around each other. Harry was both desperate to be as far away from her as possible and as close as possible and it was driving him batty. As he sat in the kitchen, he let his head sink into his heads with a groan. 

“What’s wrong?” a deep voice asked from the hallway. Harry looked up to see the portrait of Sirius, which hung over the burned portrait of his mother, eyeing him with humor in his eye. 

“Er - Hermione,” Harry said, acknowledging that he was now desperate enough to talk to a portrait for advice. 

“Oh yes, I’ve had a front row seat to this show for weeks,” the portrait smiled. “Are you finally going to do something about it?”

“I can’t, Sirius! I mean, I’ve thought about it, but haven’t done anything.”

“Clearly. You know, your father was the opposite. He went over the top trying to court your mother.”

“They weren’t really friends before they dated though. Hermione is my best friend. I can’t lose her. She’ll panic if I tell her and never speak to me again.”

“Or she won’t,” the likeness stared intently at him, causing Harry to shift uncomfortably. 

“Or she won’t and she’ll never talk to me again after we break up, which puts me in the same position.”

“Are you sure you aren’t Moony’s son? The pessimism,” the portrait grinned at him while Harry rolled his eyes. “Look, I know you came home with an extra gift for her a few days ago. Just take the first step - give her the gift and see what happens. No need to rush perfection.”

“Nosy git,” Harry muttered, though smiling now. He knew the painting wasn’t Sirius, but these conversations made him happy. 

“Nosy, lovable git,” the likeness returned.

Harry shook his head and walked upstairs to finish cleaning, caught up in his own thoughts until he heard the door slam an hour later. “Christmas crackers are set and I left the drink ingredients in the kitchen for you!” Hermione’s voice yelled up, hoarse from the cold. 

“Thanks Hermione,” Harry said softly as he walked down the stairs. She looked up at him from her spot crouched on the floor, boxes of decorations open around her. Harry admired the bright pink of her cheeks and tip of her nose from the cold, and the wildness of her curls, no doubt messed from Hermione’s knit winter hat.

“Do you mind making the drinks now while I finish the decorations in here? I think people will be arriving soon.” Harry nodded, practically running to the kitchen, away from her, and avoiding the smug gaze from Sirius’ portrait. 

“Harry, I think we are good on decorations,” Hermione called from the other room. “I can’t wait until you see the living room!”

“I’m sure it is brilliant,” Harry replied encouragingly. He could feel his goofy grin, but couldn’t school it into something more respectable. 

“I think I’ll go change now,” Hermione said as she stuck her head in the kitchen. “Are you ok with the punch?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Harry waved her off, hoping she wouldn’t come any closer. As he heard her footsteps bound up the stairs, Harry grabbed another bottle of firewhiskey. “Just going to be a strong punch,” he muttered to himself as he poured the entire bottle in. 

“Evening, and happy Christmas!” Ron boomed, appearing at the kitchen entrance. Luna peeked out behind him, only her protruding eyes visible under the comically large knitted scarf and matching hat she wore.

“Happy Christmas, Harry. I saw you hung the cork above the door to keep the nargles away,” Luna said dreamily as she took off her numerous outer layers. 

“Er - yes, we put that up right away. Thank you for that, Luna,” Harry smiled at Ron while Luna hung up her things, who gave him a thankful wink in return. 

“Ickle Ronniekins, where is your Christmas jumper?” George appeared, pointing at his own jumper with a large F on it. 

“Too good for our mother’s knitting now, is he?” Fred’s voice teased from the hallway. 

“No, just worried that he’d be shown up by his two better looking brothers,” George yelled back, a giant grin on his face. Ron huffed irritably before landing a brotherly punch on George’s arm. 

Behind them voices grew, signaling that non-family was starting to arrive through the floo. 

“Ron, mind clearing the way so I can get this out there?” Harry asked, holding up the punch bowl. 

“We’ve got it, Harry,” Fred yelled from the hallway. “Make way for London’s most eligible bachelor!” 

“Wait until the mistletoe is out ladies,” George pretended to admonish Angelina, Katie, and Luna, throwing his hands out dramatically to push the women against the walls and ignoring their cries of protest. Harry rolled his eyes goodnaturedly while Ron threw up a rude gesture to his brothers. 

“Harry! Ron!” Neville greeted them with claps on the back as soon as Harry put the punch down. 

“Hi Neville, hi Hannah,” Harry greeted the quiet girl behind Neville. “I suppose a congratulations are in order?” Neville and Hannah beamed as Hannah started telling them about the proposal. 

“Hi Hermione!” Angelina’s voice cut through their conversation, pulling Harry’s attention away from the happy couple. 

He looked up as Hermione descended the stairs, wearing an oversized red jumper and tight jeans. She was smiling at him, making his stomach do somersaults. Harry suddenly remembered how he felt when he first saw Hermione at the Yule Ball all those years ago. He can’t believe now that he’d been surprised that the pretty girl was Hermione. She was gorgeous, dressed up and polished or in pajamas, with only her wild hair visible form behind a book. Ron elbowed Harry, who realized his mouth had been hanging open. Ron began to laugh, which he tried to cover with coughing when Harry shot him an irritated look. 

Hermione made her way through the crowd with hellos before she reached them, capturing both Ron and Luna in a tight embrace. Harry always admired how easily the pair of them bounced back from their miserable three month dating experiment. Ginny and he were just now finally getting to that point, years later. He watched as she greeted Neville and Hannah, congratulating them on their recent engagement. After hearing the story about the proposal again, Hermione finally turned to Harry.

“So what do you think?” Hermione asked shyly, tucking one of her curls behind her ear.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, and he meant it. His heart soared as a huge smile broke out on her face. He wanted to keep making her smile that way; perhaps this was the moment to tell her. 

“Thank you! I thought it would make you happy. I used the same spell that they do at Hogwarts. I had to scale it down, of course, and account for some of the wards,” Hermione gestured up as she spoke. Harry followed her finger, to see that their ceiling had been transformed into a night sky, snow swirling around. 

“Right,” Harry said stupidly, kicking himself for not noticing it earlier. “The ceiling.” He heard Ron groan softly behind him. “It looks just like Christmas at Hogwarts! That’s - that’s wonderful, Hermione,” Harry said, forcing his tone into one of cheerful admiration. 

“I know how much you enjoyed your Christmases there and this was relatively simple to do.”

“Well, it looks brilliant,” Ron interjected, handing Harry a cup full of punch. “No shock there since you are the one who did it.”

“Thanks, Ron. I’m looking forward to tomorrow! Did your mum tell you if sh-”

“Hermione!” Ginny’s squeal cut off Hermione’s thought as the ginger stepped through the floo. “Come meet Lisbeth!” Hermione smiled apologetically at the two men before she waved to Ginny and bounded off towards her before wrapping her in a hug. 

“Mate, what is happening?” Ron whispered to Harry sympathetically. “That was a disaster.”

“This is your fault,” Harry grumbled. “Everything was fine until you said something.”

“But I was right, yeah?” Harry rolled his jaw, ignoring his best friend, before downing a healthy portion of his drink. Ron smirked, but didn’t push the issue. “It’ll be okay,” Ron said just as Seamus and Dean joined them, challenging the pair to a round of drunk Exploding Snap. 

As people filed out through the floo hours later, Harry levitated discarded cups to the kitchen. There he retrieved a small box he’d hidden in the top cabinet, out of reach and sight from a certain petite witch, and, after a moment of staring at it, stuffed it into his pocket. Harry paused in the hallway, watching Hermione cleaning up, her hummed muggle Christmas carols floating in the space between them. He looked up at the portrait of Sirius and gave a hesitant smile. The likeness gave Harry a wink and motioned him into the next room.

“That went well, I think,” Harry said quietly, rocking on his heels for a moment.

“I’m so glad we did a Christmas party this year!” Hermione replied, flicking her wand to send the trash to the kitchen. “I’m shocked so many people were able to come out on Christmas Eve.”

“I’m shocked people made it home. I expected people to need to stay here.” The two chuckled. 

“Well, the punch was a little strong,” Hermione commented, her tone gently accusatory. 

“It was supposed to be a party. I only had a glass anyway, I was worried about Ron after the second game of Exploding Snap.” 

“Be more worried about poor Luna having to take care of him,” Hermione shook her head with a smile. Behind them the grandfather clock by the stairs chimed twice, signalling it was 2AM. 

“Christmas Day now, technically,” Harry said quietly. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“Happy Christmas, Harry!” Hermione squealed, pulling him into a deep hug. 

“Er - thanks,” he mumbled into her mess of curls. “I have something for you.”

“I thought we were doing presents at the Burrow tomorrow?” Hermione’s dark brows knitted together as she looked at him, confused as she broke their embrace. 

“Yeah, yeah we are,” Harry mumbled, rubbing his neck sheepishly as he avoided her gaze. “I just saw this and thought of you. I wanted to surprise you,” he said, pulling the small box out of his pocket and holding it out to her. 

“But your gift is upstairs and I - “ Harry held up a hand to cut her off. 

“Hermione, just take the gift. No need to overthink it.”

Hermione tentatively took the small box, wrapped in cheerful red paper and golden bow. She gingerly pulled the ribbon, undoing the bow. Harry fought the urge to leave the room as she slowly tore at the tape, careful not to rip the wrapping paper. Instead, he pulled his hand through his hair nervously, waiting for her reaction. When she opened the box, she gasped. The witch outlined the golden oval necklace, an engraved lioness roaring on the front. 

  
“Oh, Harry, this is beautiful!” She smiled up at him, the surprise still clear on her face. “This is much too much Harry.”

“Open it,” he prodded. She looked at him suspiciously. “It’s a locket. No horcrux in there, I promise,” he teased, prompting her to shove him forcefully in the shoulder. “Harry! That is not funny!” Hermione scolded, shaking her head sternly at him before a smile cracked through. She dropped her eyes back to the necklace, popping it open before letting out a gasp. 

“It’s my parents,” Hermione said, dumbfounded. For a moment, Harry began to worry that he’d done something wrong. He knew what a sensitive issue her parents were. When she was unable to fix her parents’ memory in the months following the final battle, she’d returned and refused to talk about them since. As soon as he saw the locket a few weeks ago, he knew he wanted to put a photo of them inside, so she’d always have them close to her heart. She’s basically lost her parents too and he carried a picture of his parents with him for that reason. Harry looked back up from the necklace to see tears pooling in her firewhiskey eyes. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten,” she whispered. “Thank you Harry, I love it.”

“It is a reminder of your bravery,” Harry said softly as she put the locket on. “I thought on days when you felt down, you might find strength by looking at it.” Hermione was looking down at the locket around her neck, but he could tell she was smiling. 

“You know, there is room on the other side for another photo,” Hermione said, flipping open the locket again. 

“Should I take a picture of you and Crookshanks?” Harry teased, eyeing the cat sitting happily on the couch.

“I was actually thinking we could take one now, if you’re up for it. I don’t think we got a single picture together tonight anyway. And I want to remember the night I got the most thoughtful present I’ve ever received.” Harry could feel the blush creeping up his neck and quickly turned to grab the camera from the entryway table. After setting it up with a spell, he jumped next to Hermione in front of the Christmas tree. 

“Silly or smiling?” Harry asked as he put his arm around her, struggling to ignore the little flip of his heart when he did when the smell of vanilla hit his nostrils.

“Smiling, I think,” Hermione said quickly. Harry trained his face into his usual picture smile, casual and without teeth. But as the camera beeped, he felt Hermione press a kiss to his cheek. As she did, he felt a wide smile split his face as the flash went off.

“I reckon that’ll be a goo-” Harry was cut off by Hermione turning his face towards her’s, launching herself up on her tiptoes, and kissing him gently. He froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her back. It was as if time had stopped around them, the world around them falling away and all his anxious thoughts melted away. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he felt her soft lips on his. Harry could feel her grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as he tangled his hands into her curls. Her lips parted and she pressed herself closer against him. Their kissing quickly became more frenzied, each becoming less restrained. Harry had never wanted someone else so badly before. When her hips met his, Hermione let out a soft moan, bringing Harry back to consciousness. He broke away slightly, breathing heavily. 

“That wasn’t your Christmas gift,” Hermione whispered, her lips still nearly touching his and a pink dusting on her cheeks. “But that is something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

“Me too,” Harry said hoarsely, letting his forehead rest against her’s. “I think this might be the best Christmas I’ve ever had and we still have 22 hours to go.” 

“That just means 22 hours to make it even better. Happy Christmas, Harry,” Hermione said before kissing him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own any characters, etc. Also Fred is alive, because I like that and this is fluff :)


End file.
